Happenstance on the Third Planet

Samantha had suspected for months that the family in the blue house across the street was not from this world. Now she was certain. She fumbled with the lock on her front door, then locked it behind her, not stopping to take off her shoes or drop the mail on the side table as she hurried around the house, pulling the blinds closed. She also kept her purse on her shoulder and the shopping bag she carried on her arm. Lastly, she checked the lock on the back door before collapsing at the table in her neat-as-a-pin eat-in kitchen.

As she sat with her face in her hands, taking deep breaths, her cell phone rang, and she gave a little scream.

It was Allen, her husband.

"Hi," he said. "Are you home yet? There's a big storm coming, and they're warning people to take shelter."

"I'm in the kitchen," she answered. "Allen? I saw something that terrified me. Can you leave work and come home?"

"What did you see?"

"I can't tell you over the phone. Someone might be listening."

"Who?" Allen answered after some hesitation.

"The Sullivans," Samantha whispered.

"You better tell me what you saw."

Samantha took a breath and closed her eyes as she spoke.

"I had just gotten home. I was at the mailbox getting the mail. The Sullivan's garage opened to show Mr. Sullivan loading the back of their Chevy Suburban with suitcases as Mrs. Sullivan and their tribe of children climbed in. Even that dog with the odd bark jumped inside. Then there was a tremor like an earthquake, and for a few seconds, Mr. Sullivan's face changed into an alien's face. So did Mrs. Sullivan's face and at least one of the children too. I saw them through the windshield. The books and movies got it right. His eyes were the size of baseballs, and his skin was like a reptile's skin. The SUV raced away after that. They left the garage door open."

There was a pause before Allen guffawed. "I knew it!" he said.

"You did?"

"It's that book you're reading. We're not Alone. You've always had too big of an imagination. Of course, that's part of what I love about you. Listen, light some candles before it gets too dark, and bring out those battery-powered lanterns. There are extra batteries in the storage room drawer. Turn on the television and keep an eye on the weather. You may have to take cover in the basement. I'll try to be home early but with the warnings to stay off the roads…"

<Static>

"Are you alright, Sammy?"

<Static>

"Allen?

<Static>

"Allen?"

There was no answer.

"Allen?"

"Please try your call again later," a robotic voice told her. 

<Static>

Samantha wished they had a dog. Allen thought they should wait until after they had children. They'd been trying for a while, but now…. She smiled, thinking about the last results of the pregnancy test. Allen didn't know yet. 

Now, she turned on the television, letting the human voices fill the room with normalcy. She lit the lilac-scented candle-in-a-jar in the bedroom and its lemon-scented twin in the kitchen. She placed a lantern in the bathroom and kept the other with her as she made a cup of tea and sat down to watch the news. 

Allen was right. Every channel was tuned to the storm. A worldwide storm? How could that be? Where had it come from? Things had been normal all through lunch with her friend Kayla. What were the churches saying about this? As if in answer to her question, one of those well-known preachers appeared on the screen. 

"Repent your sins. Judgment day is upon us!" 

Samantha switched to CNN. 

Here, in addition to the storm warnings—scrolling messages and red-highlighted headlines offered secondary news as a commentator instructed everyone to stay inside, assuring them that there was no cause for panic. The homeless were provided shelter at various sites throughout the city. The national guard was patrolling the streets giving rides to anyone that needed them on the city buses they'd appropriated for the cause.

The headline at the top of the screen held news about the political showdown between the five most powerful nations. That was nothing new. Things had been heating up for years.

Samantha listened to storm reports from London, then France, Sydney, and Bloemfontein in South Africa.

The words "multiple reports of alien sightings" had been scrolling across the bottom of the screen when the power winked out. An unearthly whine greeted Samantha's ear when she pressed the green button on her iPhone to call Allen. What had become of the robot? 

Dear God, what is happening? she thought. Is Allen okay? She couldn't help but be afraid. They'd only been married a short time, with their second anniversary still months away. They'd met at the university's planetarium, where Allen taught astronomy when she'd worked there for a summer. Lately, he'd taken up with some acronymed coalition that worked on saving the planet. The GPE. Guardians of the Planet Earth. A network of scientists, engineers, and technical geniuses that protected the planet from destruction.

Samantha moved to the basement carrying a pile of magazines and a book of crosswords, along with the lantern, tea, and an unopened box of Oreos. She wasn't hungry now, but maybe later. We're Not Alone was left behind on her nightstand.

In the basement, she set up the folding card table and searched for stations on a battery-powered radio. Both AM and FM dials found nothing but static. She gave up the search and tried concentrating on an article about a woman who claimed she hadn't a clue that her husband had been a serial killer.

As she sipped tea and read the story, her mind drifted back to the Sullivans.

Samantha wasn't entirely convinced that what she'd seen had been her imagination.  

There were oddities occurring before today that couldn't be explained. Every night at precisely eight o'clock, the Sullivan's lights turned off, yet on those nights when Samantha couldn't sleep, she heard machinery noises coming from somewhere inside. And what about the time a blinding light beamed toward the sky from their backyard? By the time she'd woken Allen, the light was gone. While the family seemed strange, she'd never felt threatened, yet what did she know about them? They had a household of children. She didn't remember Mrs. Sullivan's first name though they had introduced themselves when Samantha and Allen moved in. Was there anything inside the house that would expose them to be something other than human?

 There were no blinds in the basement windows, and there was still enough daylight for Samantha to see across the street. The Sullivans had yet to return. Perhaps they were stranded at some shelter. They wanted people off the road. Was the door that led from the garage to the house locked? Even if they came home, she could say she was trying to be neighborly and close the garage door. The minutes ticked by. Samantha paced the floor, then ran upstairs to make more tea. She took a fresh tea bag from a decorative tin. 

I need to run across the street, she thought. I need to check on my neighbor's house. They left their garage open in this terrible storm. 

When Samantha stepped outside, she first noticed the neighbors standing near their front doors and driveways, looking up at the sky. She looked up. Spiderwebs of lightning traveled through the clouds as far as one could see. She couldn't help but gasp. They hadn't shown the sky on CNN. 

No one looked her way as she crossed the street to the Sullivan's garage. There wasn't a rake or single tool inside the empty two-car space. She tried the door to the house and slipped inside.

The kitchen, living room, and dining area looked like something from a magazine. Samantha opened a kitchen drawer and then another, shocked to find them both empty.

"Are you going to eat me?" a young voice asked.

Samantha jumped and cried out in startlement. It was one of the Sullivan's many children. Baseball eyes filled with sorrow looked back at her. Pale lizard-like skin covered its arms and face. The young alien was terrified. Did the Sullivans know they'd left a child behind? Perhaps they thought they'd be back sooner, though they were carrying suitcases.

"Of course, I'm not going to eat you! What an imagination you must have. My name is Samantha. What's your name?" she asked, putting a smile on her face.

The child didn't answer. 

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm not from Earth," the child said instead of answering. 

"I can see that," Samantha smiled. "It's okay."

The child, suddenly embarrassed, changed her appearance at once. A girl. About ten or eleven. 

"I'm sorry," the girl said. "I didn't realize I was showing."

"It happens," Samantha answered. "Are your parents coming back soon? We can wait for them at my house. What do they call you?"

Oreo was the magical word, and you can have many as you want, was the phrase Samantha used to cast the spell that lured the not-from-Earth child across the street.

"We'll wait out the storm and keep each other company in my basement," Samantha told her. For E.T., it had been Reese's pieces. Love of sweets must be universal, she thought.

"It's not really a storm that's coming," the girl said with a cookie in her hand. "My father is calling it a holocaust. Did you read The Diary of Anne Frank?"

"I did," Samantha answered. Understanding was dawning, with horror seeping through around the edges. "Did you hide like Anne Frank? Could your family not find you?"

"Anne was so brave."

"And now, so are you. It takes courage to trust a stranger. I promise to protect you." Samantha forced a calm for the child—for the coming baby.

"You can call me Anne," said the child. "It's my human name. She wasn't from Earth either, you know." 

"I didn't know.

The storm outside intensified. Rain poured while lightning battled some unseen entity. The house shook. Tremors strong enough to rattle things on shelves were frequent.

The appearance of headlights in her driveway from an unfamiliar car was more frightening than the storm.

"I want you to hide behind the furnace," Samantha whispered to Anne. "Don't make any noise. No matter what happens." 

Samantha found a sledgehammer and waited in the shadows. The back door banged open against the wall. She could tell it was the back door and not the front by the sound of the squeaky hinge. Footsteps pounded across the floor above them. 

"Sammy!"

It was Allen. 

"I'm down here." 

Samantha ran into his arms. 

"Are you alright? We had to use a special car to get here through the storm."

Moments later, Anne was reunited with her father, who had first looked for his daughter across the street.

"I'm sorry, Father," Anne sobbed.

"It's over," Allen whispered to Samantha. "We're not sure yet which country deployed the weapon that nearly annihilated this planet, but we stopped it. The effects have dissipated into outer space."

"Who stopped it?"

"The coalition I belong to. The GPE. Joe Sullivan belongs to it too. In a few days, everything will return to normal minus one weapon of mass destruction and the means to recreate it. I love you."

He kissed her.

Allen was right. Once the power was back on and cellphone service was restored, life went on as usual. The world powers kept on fighting. The Sullivans returned to their home. Samantha learned Mrs. Sullivan's name was Lila, and a barbecue was planned for the end of the month with the Sullivans and a few other neighbors.

Samantha lit the candles in the candelabra. When Allen arrived, she served his favorite steak and potatoes with hot bread and plenty of butter.

"What's the occasion? Not our anniversary already?"

"I'm pregnant," Samantha announced. "We'll become parents in about seven months."

The reaction was one of wonder. Allen smiled, and for a few brief seconds, before he realized he was showing, Samantha saw the baseball-sized eyes and the reptilian skin. She kept the smile pasted on her face as he bent to kiss her.

"I love you so much," he said.